


dragon aspect

by bloosie



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Dragonborn - Freeform, Implied Sexual Assault, Other, idk what to tag this....
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-19
Updated: 2017-11-19
Packaged: 2019-02-04 11:36:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12770238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloosie/pseuds/bloosie
Summary: Words of a friend came to my mind. "Every day, you become closer to the dov. Sossedov los Tahrodiis."





	dragon aspect

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first and probably only skyrim fanfic, and it's probably not gonna be so great. it's just an idea i've had while replaying the game, listening to paarthurnax comment on your dragonlike qualities.

I was young when I first noticed strange happenings. My brother, my fraternal twin, died when we were but six winters old. We had been playing outside, though we strayed too far from the path into the woods, and he was mauled by wolves. Anger overtook me, and with my bare hands, I did to them as they did to him. Hazy memories suggest that I may have consumed meat from each corpse before my father found me, dazed and in tears, covered in blood.

Our house burned the following autumn, the flames lapping at the wooden cottage. My mother carried me to safety, thinking I surely wouldn’t be able to breathe well enough to make it out on my own since most of my tiny room had filled with flame and smoke. My first clear memories are of that night, adrenaline heightening my senses. The scent of burning flesh filled my nostrils, and my mother wailed, lifting me once more as she carried me to the nearest inn for the night. 

In the depth of my tenth winter, a soft voice told me to even the scales and dispose of her. I was afraid because I loved my mother, and she was all I had left. For several years, I refused to do as the voice instructed, until one morning I awoke in a standing position, the hilt of my mother’s silver daggers in my still small hands. The blade, I noticed, was buried in her heart.

I ran that morning. Guards caught up with me after a few moons, locking me in a cell for so long. It was the most boring thing I’d ever experienced. Truly, after what I had experienced, the most gruesome punishment was staring at my cell’s walls day after day, scarcely eating so as not to have too much strength. Finally, long after I had lost count of the passage of time, my cell door opened. 

“Out,” barked a gruff voice, no doubt belonging to the usual prison guards. I blinked twice, clearing the film from my eyes. This guard was not what I expected. I obeyed, still, not truly caring what his intent was. I had been used and abused in the years I was here. Anything would be better than this.

* * *

Much time had passed, but it flew by. I couldn’t help but notice, each battle I fought, each dragon I slew, my skin grew harder to pierce. My nails thickened, growing into natural points. Words of a friend came to my mind. “Every day, you become closer to the dov. Sossedov los Tahrodiis.”

* * *

I hardly needed to whisper what once required my full Voice. A soft utterance of, “Mul, qah, diiv,” enhanced my strength, rendered my skin almost completely impenetrable. Adrenaline coursed through my veins, waking up my senses. My world view shattered, and anyone close enough to see my face would have told me that in that moment, my pupils contracted before dilating into slits.

I was fairly certain I remained the same person on the inside, but one couldn’t help but notice my affinity for raw meats, the way a gaze could petrify any man or woman brave enough to come close, or the gravelly tone my voice had taken on. 

Communing with that old friend, I was almost surprised when he greeted you as dov do one another. I supposed I was more dovah than Nord these days, so I didn’t hesitate in my response. Conversation was… as I expected, if I was being honest. Paarthurnax told me, after so long, that I had a “Sil dovah,” a dragon soul. 

Pieces started to fall together in my head. I ran my tongue across my teeth, noticing not for the first time that a few were missing, but that more were starting to fill the gaps. These new teeth were longer, sharper, and seemingly harder. They would have pierced my tongue or the inside of my mouth, had my skin not been hardening the past year. 

During the nights, I woke to searing pain along my spine and cramps in my legs. I filled my body with the strength of a dragon, those three words having become a crutch for me recently, and settled back down to sleep. 

I wouldn’t take a partner, despite many being attracted, maybe out of curiosity. I refused bards’ offers of playing for me personally if it meant sleeping in my home. I would sooner sleep in a coffin than sleep with my housecarl three doors down. My adopted children had their own house, one I visited from time to time but never,  _ ever _ slept in. The last time someone else was in my home when I slept, I awoke to the sound of their screams, my teeth in their throat, and warm blood soaking my clothes. 

Repeats were not an option. I would not kill another person unknowingly like that. 

My nightly routine was disrupted when my use of the Voice shifted. My voice dropped an octave, and I knew the truth. Pain flooded my body, my insides felt like liquid was rolling around, shifting in ways the human body was never meant to be. I blacked out in pain, though I know that my brain hid the majority of it, and when I awoke, the world was… off.

I was no longer inside my home, but on the roof, perched. What should have been a chilly autumn night was instead pleasant to my new senses. I stretched my limbs, shocked at the sight but not the knowledge of wings having replaced my arms. I glanced down, confirming my suspicion.

Past my prime, I had become a dragon. I now understood why the other Dragonborn had disappeared. They had either died with the dragons or as the dragons.

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed!


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